The harp of the wilderness; or, Flowers of modern fugitive poetry |
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Страница 121
SUMMER ' S GONE . MRS . NORTON . Hark ! through the dim wood dying , With
a moan , Faintly the winds are sighingSummer ' s gone ! There , when my bruised
heart feeleth , And the pale moon her face revealeth , Darkly my footstep ...
SUMMER ' S GONE . MRS . NORTON . Hark ! through the dim wood dying , With
a moan , Faintly the winds are sighingSummer ' s gone ! There , when my bruised
heart feeleth , And the pale moon her face revealeth , Darkly my footstep ...
Страница 218
Of autumn through the forests had gone by , And the rich maple o ' er her
wanderings lone Its crimson leaves in many a shower had strown , Flushing the
air ; and winter ' s blast had been Amidst the pines ; and now a softer green
Fringed their ...
Of autumn through the forests had gone by , And the rich maple o ' er her
wanderings lone Its crimson leaves in many a shower had strown , Flushing the
air ; and winter ' s blast had been Amidst the pines ; and now a softer green
Fringed their ...
Страница 250
Two solemn voices , in a funeral strain , Met , as rich sunbeams and dark bursts
of rain Meet in the sky : “ Thou art gone hence ! " one sang " our light is flown ,
Our Beautiful , that seem ' d too much our own , Ever to die ! - Thou art gone
hence !
Two solemn voices , in a funeral strain , Met , as rich sunbeams and dark bursts
of rain Meet in the sky : “ Thou art gone hence ! " one sang " our light is flown ,
Our Beautiful , that seem ' d too much our own , Ever to die ! - Thou art gone
hence !
Страница 251
Thou art gone home , gone home ! " then high and clear Warbled that other voice
— " thou hast no tears Again to shed i Never to fold the robe o ' er secret pain ,
Never , weigh ' d down by memory ' s clouds , again To bow thy head . “ Thou art
...
Thou art gone home , gone home ! " then high and clear Warbled that other voice
— " thou hast no tears Again to shed i Never to fold the robe o ' er secret pain ,
Never , weigh ' d down by memory ' s clouds , again To bow thy head . “ Thou art
...
Страница 252
Never to say farewell , - to weep in vain - To read of change in eyes beloved
again ; Thou art gone home ! “ By the bright waters now thy lot is cast ; Joy for
thee , happy Friend ! - thy bark hath past The rough sea ' s foam . Now the long ...
Never to say farewell , - to weep in vain - To read of change in eyes beloved
again ; Thou art gone home ! “ By the bright waters now thy lot is cast ; Joy for
thee , happy Friend ! - thy bark hath past The rough sea ' s foam . Now the long ...
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beauty beneath bird blessed blue bower breast breath breeze bright brow cheek child cloud cold comes dark dead dear death deep dream early earth face faded fair fall fame feel fled flow flowers forget friends gaze gentle glad glory gone grave green hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour lady land leaves life's light lips live lone look meet morn mother mountain never night o'er once pass past rest rose round shade side sigh silent sings sleep smile soft song soon soul sound spirit spring star stream summer sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought thousand tone tree voice wandering waters wave weep wild wind wings woods young youth
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Страница 72 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Страница 108 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth ; And constancy lives in realms above ; And life is thorny ; and youth is vain ; And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain.
Страница 187 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse : And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Страница 172 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm — A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though childlike form.
Страница 38 - SPIRIT that breathest through my lattice, thou That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day, Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow : Thou hast been out upon the deep at play, Riding all day the wild blue waves till now. Roughening their crests, and scattering high their spray And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea!
Страница 174 - And — but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not now, And but for that chill changeless brow, Where cold Obstruction's apathy Appals the gazing mourner's heart, As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon...
Страница 182 - Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back; Their shots along the deep slowly boom: Then ceased — and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail; Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.
Страница 38 - God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth ! Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest, Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest, Summoning from the innumerable boughs The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his breast...
Страница 144 - Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and home!
Страница 183 - Waken, lords and ladies gay, On the mountain dawns the day ; All the jolly chase is here, With hawk and horse and hunting-spear; Hounds are in their couples yelling. Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily merrily mingle they: Waken, lords and ladies gay...